It was time for bed.
Or at least time to start getting ready.
We set a five-minute timer.
And the moment it started, my son lit up.
He wasn’t easing into anything. And he was not winding down. No “let’s just chill for a second.”
He went straight to work.
He started pulling games off the shelf that had no business being opened with five minutes left. I said no to games so he started setting up an obstacle course that would’ve taken twenty minutes just to create.
A flurry of ideas and motion—like he was trying to squeeze the last drops out of a lemon that didn’t owe him anything.
He was frantic.
And I was frustrated.
I wanted him calm. I wanted cooperation. I wanted the slow march toward pajamas and teeth brushing.
I wanted him to let the clock run out.
But he wouldn’t.
He was determined to use every second he’d been given.
Later that night, after we eventually made it through the whole routine and he was sleeping soundly, it hit me.
What I saw as resistance…
was more like an eagerness.
He wasn’t rebelling against bedtime.
He was honoring the small amount of time he still had.
As adults, it seems like we often lose that.
We tend to conserve instead of contend.
We coast instead of press forward.
We sit back and try to “manage” energy instead of spending it well.
We let the clock run out.
Not because we’re lazy—
but because we’re tired.
Because we’re “burned out”.
Because we’ve learned the art of self-protection.
But eagerness isn’t recklessness.
And effort isn’t exhaustion.
There’s a difference between burning out
and burning bright while there’s still daylight.
This shows up everywhere if you look for it.
A husband who gives his best energy to the day but offers leftovers to his wife.
A father who scrolls when he could sprint for five more minutes with his kids.
A business owner who knows how to start strong but eases off before the finish line.
We start managing decline instead of chasing fullness.
My son didn’t do that.
He saw five minutes and thought, “What can I still build?”
In our walk with Christ, this matters even more.
Scripture talks about the harvest—not as something automatic, but something urgent.
The fields are ready.
The workers are few.
The time is now.
Judgment day will come.
But today is a day of divine sweetness.
Today is a day where grace is active.
Where redemption is available.
Where the work still matters.
There will be a time to rest.
There will be a time when the clock stops.
But until then—
Don’t just endure the minutes.
Don’t coast to the bell.
Don’t let eagerness die quietly.
Spend the time you’re given.
Run through the line.
Finish with intention.
Five minutes can still hold a lot of life—
if you’re willing to move